


In Memoriam

by Lilyliegh



Series: Yuuya Appreciation Week 2017 [2]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Recovered Memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 13:47:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11807208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilyliegh/pseuds/Lilyliegh
Summary: Yuuya doesn't remember what happened with Zarc and the dragons, and it's up to Sora to stick with him as he remembers.





	In Memoriam

**Author's Note:**

> for Yuuya Appreciation Week - day 02: memories. oops, i made this prompt sad ><

Yuuya blinks. “You want to … go out?” He looks past Sora, blue hair sticking upright in a high ponytail, and out to the cheery morning streets. The sun is shining down on the warm pavement and the rows upon rows of wildflowers gathered in small gardens. There isn’t even a cloud visible which causes the sky and sea to meet together, the divide between them invisible. It is a perfect day to go out, Yuuya supposed, but … 

He hasn’t been out of the house since he came back, since he lost his counterparts. When he came to after the duel, he’d been quite weak and unable to duel. Whatever energy he’d expended during that last duel where all his friends watched him disappeared as soon as he’d won, and he’d collapsed in Yuzu’s arms. Since then, Yuzu and his mother have been nursing him back to health. His friends have visited him, sure, but no one has offered to take him out of the city.

Sora, rolling back and forth on the balls of his heels, is the first one. He clasps his hands behind his back and leans to one side, trying to remain in Yuuya’s line of vision. “Well, Coach Y? What do you think?”

“What do I …” Yuuya begins.

A heavy sigh escapes Sora’s lips. “I mean, don’t you want to get out of the house? Don’t you feel all cramped and bored in there, with really nothing to do and no one to talk to? Don’t you want to be free? You look better now, so much better than after that duel.”

Yuuya  _ feels  _ better: he’s been cooking for himself and playing games, and every afternoon he works on building and tuning his decks. He’s taken up online dueling to even give him some practice. Naturally, once he was able to walk his mother did not let him get away with doing nothing: she got him back to doing chores and taking care of himself. 

Thus, Yuuya is eager to get out of the house and duel everyone. However, there’s a part of him that’s worried, a lingering feeling from before … before what? Yuuya’s memory has been a bit foggy, dulled around the edges, so that the most he remembers is dueling with Yuzu, and meeting Sora, and then waking up ages later and dueling against Reiji and winning. That had been it – one final duel to seal him victory in something that he can’t remember. In the dark recesses of Yuuya’s mind, he knows he’s missing memories. However, for the sake of keeping everyone smiling, Yuuya hasn’t asked them over it.

Standing in the doorway to his house, Yuuya wonders if he should follow Sora. He hasn’t seen his friend in several days; Sora was one of the first people he saw when he woke up in his bedroom, but ever since that day he’s been too busy to stop by again. Now though, Sora looks like he’s itching to get out of this situation, out on a trip for just him and Yuuya. 

Yuuya wonders how much Sora remembers that Yuuya’s forgotten.

“Uh … sure then,” Yuuya says, words tumbling out of his mouth. “Should I …”

Sora pushes him through the doorway, giggling. “Go get dressed, Coach; you’re still in your pyjamas! Then we can head out!”

Yuuya looks down at his body, cheeks burning. He’s in pyjamas decorated with stars, having been lazing around the house all day. Yuuya closes the door and hurries upstairs, tearing through his room for something comfortable to wear. He yanks out a pair of cargo pants and a t-shirt; his pendulum and goggles await on his side table, two pieces of him that he could never leave the house without. In the mirror, he flattens down his hair and checks that there’s no leftover breakfast on his face; Sora would never tell him, and instead tease him about it only after Yuuya brushed it off.

Now ready to go, Yuuya heads back downstairs. His mother is out of the house helping Shuuzou with You Show Duel School. Yuuya doesn’t remember her having any interest in duel schools even when he was going to it, but ever since … whatever it was that happened when he passed out, Yoko has been heading over daily to teach or do paperwork. 

His father, likewise, is teaching too.

Still, Yuuya says goodbye to the empty house before throwing open the door. Sora is inches from him, standing up on his tiptoes so that he and Yuuya are nose-to-nose and heart-to-heart. In the time that Yuuya’s been asleep – how long has it been? – Sora has gotten tall enough to no longer need to stretch so high; either that, or for the first time Sora is standing upright. His smile is a bit brighter too, no longer forcing the corners of his lips to spread out until they tear apart his cheeks.

“Yuuya? What are you standing there for?”

Yuuya shakes his head and hops down the steps. When the sun catches on his goggles, he squints and raises a hand to block out the incoming rays. Cool wind caresses his cheeks and skirts over his loose clothing. His ears pick up minute noises down the road that sound like kids playing at the park, lively sounds that Yuuya hasn’t heard in weeks. From his bedroom window, all Yuuya could ever hear were cars and trucks on the road. Now outside, the world seems awake and vibrant, jumping out at him whenever he can. 

Speaking of jumping around – Sora has taken to skipping from foot to foot, calling out to Yuuya. He always stays a few steps ahead, walking backwards with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Somehow he isn’t tired from whatever knocked Yuuya out cold, though the quieter Yuuya becomes, the more the shadows at the edges of Sora’s face show. By the time they get to the walk, Yuuya has said little more than a few words, and Sora has stopped talking.

At first, Yuuya doesn’t notice. There is so much of the city to take in, views that he could have never spotted from his secluded bedroom window: children playing, plants growing, duelists engaged in combat –

_ Bring smiles to the world. _

Yuuya blinks. That … wasn’t his voice. It’s not Sora’s voice either, who has stopped walking to stand in the middle of the sidewalk, eyebrows furrowed. “Hey, why’d you stop walking? You aren’t tired already, are you, Coach? Come on, you’ve got to have more energy than …” 

Those words drifting through his mind – they’re important. Someone  _ said  _ that to him, someone who meant – no,  _ means  _ – a lot to Yuuya. It’s someone he must’ve forgotten, perhaps from his foggy memories.

Sora’s words drift off as he approaches, raising one hand to wave back and forth in front of Yuuya’s face. “Coach?” 

_ What did I forget?  _ Who  _ did I forget? _

A snap of fingers.  _ “Yuuya!” _

His name startles him awake; Yuuya stumbles back because Sora is, once again, inches from his face with his fingers pressed to the bridge of Yuuya’s nose. Once Yuuya’s eyes siddle down to Sora’s, he receives a flick on the forehead.

“Silly, why are you spacing out? Aren’t Entertainment duelists supposed to have bounds of energy?”

The words linger in his mind like the claps of an audience. Sora paces back and forth, clicking his fingers first, and then fiddling with his deck case attached to his belt. No matter where he goes, Sora doesn’t stop fidgeting.

“Ha ha, but I’ve barely left the house, much less practiced an Action Duel.” Rubbing the back of his head, Yuuya confesses, “I’m probably out of shape.”

Rather than make Sora laugh, the words play a lonely note that silences him. The weight of the words acts like a blanket that mutes out the rest of the conversation. Yuuya then realises the implications of his words; it’s a bit insensitive to be bringing up the accident and his ‘coma,’ especially since he supposes that Sora has taken it quite hard. If Yuuya had the memories of what happened before the coma, he would’ve been a bit more careful with his words. However, no one has told him anything. There is a blank space where Yuuya’s memories should be.

Lips fumbling for words, Yuuya tries to mend the silence with his foggy mind and heavy tongue. “Sora, I –”

“We should go to the pier,” Sora interrupts. “It’s a clear day and the wind isn’t too cold. Besides, as nice as this view is, it’ll get quite busy here once traffic hits. We might as well hang out somewhere quiet, right?” He extends a hand to Yuuya, beckoning him with his fingers. “First time out of the house, so I should show you something memorable, right?”

_ Something memorable … _

Yuuya takes Sora’s hand, fingers closing around his thin wrist. “All right.”

Of course, Sora’s paths are neither straight nor easy. Yuuya follows him through narrow alleyways beneath tall apartment buildings. At the end of these alleys, Sora then instructs Yuuya to lift him up over the fences blocking intruders, and they dash through private properties before they’re caught. More than once Yuuya thinks to stop Sora, but with each jump and twist his duelist instincts reignite. Each movement feels like he’s done it a hundred times before.

Still holding his hand, he and Sora leap over another fence and land on hard concrete. Pinpricks of pain shoot through Yuuya’s legs, and he drops Sora’s hand so that he can massage his calves. His body isn’t used to such strenuous activity; Sora must’ve been practicing while he’s been unconscious or recovering. 

“Hey, look up.”

With a grimace of pain, Yuuya does. Before him is the sea, great and vast and blue like a jewel. The sunlight filters into it, creating drops of gold along the surface. At this hour, the sky has yet to turn into a rose, still maintaining its cerulean gleam and connected to the cloudless sky. From this viewpoint though, Yuuya can see so much of the world. When he looks to the right, the Maiami Stadium stands above the water; and to the left are the Maiami beaches that he’s grown up on.

Those memories aren’t affected: Yuuya remembers dueling at the stadium and playing on the beaches after school, meaning that whatever happened that no one’s bothered to tell him about was recent. 

Next to him, Sora stands still. He too looks at the water, in places the same colour as his hair, but unlike Yuuya’s gentle smile, Sora’s face has only grown darker. The sun doesn’t reach all the shadows created by his long hair. It’s such a beautiful sight that Yuuya can’t imagine how this could bring pain to Sora’s face. Still though, Yuuya leans closer to his friend.

“I like this view,” Yuuya says. “I … want to remember it.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Yuuya spots Sora swallow hard.

“Me too.”

They settle on the edge of the dock and watch the water churn back and forth with the pace of the wind. Somewhere in his memories, Yuuya remembers being here before. He wasn’t watching the water, but instead he was looking for Yuzu. Yuzu was here … Sora was here too. Were they dueling then, or practicing? Behind him is the park, another familiar place that Yuuya swears he’s been to. 

_ Bring smiles to the world. _

That wasn’t what he or his father said, and it doesn’t sound like something Sora would say either. Yuuya has half a mind to blurt it out now and see what reaction it gets from Sora, but he holds his tongue. It’s not the time or place to be asking such things. He’ll remember it. His friends and family aren’t ready to tell him, and Yuuya won’t pressure them.

“Do you like this place?” Yuuya asks instead. He kicks his feet back and forth to an unknown tune, facing forward to the high sun and gentle water.

Sora doesn’t reply at once, feet swinging in rhythm with Yuuya’s. Then: “I … do. Yuzu and I practiced dueling here. I taught her how to Fusion Summon even.”

In the dark corners of Yuuya’s mind, he remembers the conversation. Why couldn’t he recall that before? It’s important – Yuzu’s successes are important to him. And still, Yuuya only remembers as much as Sora tells him. He wracks his brain for more,  _ more, tell me what happened while I was unconscious, tell me what happened  _ before  _ that. _

A hand lays on his arm. 

_ Yuuya. _

“Coach?”

Yuuya shakes his head. Sora is watching him with one thin, blue eyebrow raised high. His gesture speaks more than the words out of his mouth: “Want to go somewhere else?”

With a nervous laugh, Yuuya nods. “I think I haven’t had enough fresh air recently.”

Sora jumps up to his feet, and then bends down to grab Yuuya’s hands and haul him up too. He’s like a prince in this moment, one knee on the ground even. Once they’re both standing, Yuuya bows low, sweeping an arm out of the side for added effect. “Thank you, oh noble sir.”

This time he gets Sora to laugh. Sora has a giggly laugh, one that starts quieter than it ends, and that grows to be a bubbly sound so loud that anyone in the park behind them would’ve heard him. Yet rather than act all embarrassed and push him away, Sora’s cheeks grow as red as Yuuya’s hair and he leans in close. His face smushes into Yuuya’s chest.

“Don’t call me out like that, Coach Y!” he whines, pushing even more against Yuuya until they’re threatening to tip over towards the sea. To support them, Sora pulls Yuuya forward; this time he is a prince saving the maiden from a treacherous fall into the cold sea. Sora pulls him close and jokes about how Yuuya  _ almost  _ fell in, even though both of them know that Sora would never have let that happen.

Once they’re standing and no longer worried about tumbling into the ocean, Yuuya sobers and asks, “So where to next?”

“Where to?” Sora echoes. “You think I’m going to take you all round the city?” Quickly though, he adds, “Well, wherever we go will be a surprise, won’t it?”

Yuuya nods in agreement. Once again, Sora takes his hand and leads him down familiar roads. They don’t take as many alleyways, and therefore don’t trespass, but by going down these paths Yuuya’s mind fills with familiar images of spending time in the city with Sora and Yuzu and Reiji, and … someone that looks like Yuzu. Someone similar in face shape, but with different coloured hair and personality. Who was that person? They’re at the edge of Yuuya’s mind, fuzzier than his memories of hanging around the pier with Yuzu. 

Yuuya wonders if he can ask Sora about the purple-haired girl. Would Sora know her too? Was she a participant of a tournament, or a friend of a friend of a …

Shaking his head, Yuuya tries to focus on the street signs. In this area of town the roads aren’t busy enough with rush hour traffic, but as they head onto one of the main shopping districts, they fall into massive crowds of people. The sidewalks, despite being extra wide, are crowded with pedestrians. If it weren't for his hand around Sora’s wrist, Yuuya thinks that they might’ve been separated.

They walk closer to each other as Sora leads Yuuya deeper into the crowds. At first, Yuuya thinks that Sora might be taking him out for dinner or to a shopping mall. However, at the first sign of stairs leading up to the train, Sora tugs him toward those. They take the stairs two at a time, their legs now long enough to get them to the top without tripping. The train station is only a bit less crowded than the street; in fact, it feels more crowded because of the walls boxing them in. There aren’t any windows in this area of the station, at least not until they’re through check-in.

“Where …”

“You think I’m lost, don’t you?” Sora says. He squeezes Yuuya’s hand, and then flicks his forehead. “Silly coach, I know where I’m going. Come on, let’s get good seats on the train!”

They pass through the pay area with their passes, and then head through several hallways to the main station. Here there are dozens of tracks with numbers overhead that show the destination. This place is only semi-familiar though. Yuuya remembers waiting on wooden benches for trains with Yoko or with his friends, but he never remembers seeing a station quite so grand. There has to be at least twelve train lines here, and there aren’t enough places in Maiami City to need so many lines. The trains aren’t little too: many of them are great metal behemoths meant to take people far away.

As they head to one of the benches, Yuuya sneaks a glance at one of the electronic boards atop the front of the train. It reads:  _ City, Synchro. _

_ Where the hell is Synchro?  _ Yuuya thinks,  _ and why does it have a city named City? Wait, is that because the city doesn’t have a name? Are we going to an unnamed place? Where … are we going? _

In all his middle school years, Yuuya has never taken a geography class where there were places called City or Synchro. Yuuya has no memories of these places though they sound familiar on his lips, like perhaps he once made up a story and named his world Synchro. Wait, Synchro is a  _ dueling  _ style, so Yuuya would know this, which means that they’re going to a dueling field.

The questions drive him up the wall though, so Yuuya puts his head in his hands and grounds out, “Sora, is there  _ really  _ a train that goes to a dueling field?”

Sora looks up at him like he’s grown a second head, and he bursts out in his giggly laugh. “A – a train to a dueling field? Coach, do you hear yourself think? No, City is … and Synchro is … it’s a place we should visit, hm?”

In the world of obscure answers, Sora’s response takes the cake.

“That answers none of the questions I asked,” Yuuya says, “and why are we going to this place?”

The conversation is momentarily halted when the train pulls into the station. Sora hops off his seat and heads on to the train, never more than a step ahead of Yuuya. At this hour the cars are packed with commuters heading home from work, so Sora and Yuuya squish together, chest-to-chest, and try not to be separated when more people try to crowd onto the train. Yuuya is shorter than most of the business workers; thankfully, dressed in his casual clothes he sticks out like a sore thumb in these crowds. Sora too – he’s the only one on the train with such blue hair.

From their spot in the middle of the train car, Yuuya can’t see much. He drowns between the bodies of commuters, unable to see anything besides suits and briefcases. However, the train car is silent, zipping down the line. Just over the heads of the people Yuuya spots glimmers of the  sea.

Wait … the train is going over the sea?

Not caring if he pushes into people, Yuuya shuffles towards one of the windows. Sure enough, the train is travelling down a set of tracks over what appears to be a river. It’s not wide enough to be the ocean, but still Yuuya can’t ever remember travelling by train over any bodies of water. And since there are so many people on this line, Yuuya can’t imagine this is a new line. Have there always been trains here? How long  _ has  _ Yuuya been asleep for?

“Synchro is over the water?” Yuuya says, turning back to Sora. His friend hangs a step back, holding onto Yuuya’s sleeve so that they aren’t separated.

“Yeah, just across the United River.” 

Yuuya’s eyes fall back to the train now traversing over land; behind them, the glimmering sea awaits their return. This new town though is up ahead, a behemoth of tall, metallic skyscrapers reaching to the heavens. There are clouds here, gargantuan beasts pierced by towers, and just beneath them hover hundreds of paved highways and roads. It’s such a different sight from Maiami City with its train line; other than this particular line, Yuuya doesn’t see another set of tracks anywhere.

The train tracks give way to the view down below, a drop to paths alight with iridescent stars. At one point, this area of town must’ve been quite gloomy and decrepit, but there are now homey touches that make the city’s underbelly appealing. The train follows these starlit paths up to a massive station in the middle of the town, a building supported between several towers like a spider in a web. When the train enters the station, Yuuya’s eyes have to close from the bright lights.

Opening them, Yuuya spots the high-tech atmosphere of City. There are fewer people in this station, and over time people have gotten off the train itself. Nonetheless, when Yuuya steps outside he clings to Sora’s hands. If he were separated in this unfamiliar city, it would be terrible.

And yet … it’s not so unfamiliar. The train station is new, a jewel of sorts, but outside the tall buildings already look like sights he’s seen before. The blue sky, the winding streets – where does he remember this from?

“Where to?” Yuuya asks, scanning around the area.

Humming under his breath, Sora says, “Why don’t we just start walking for a bit? You look like you could use some fresh air after being in that crowded train for so long, hm?”

Yuuya agrees; his head feels fuzzy, but not just because of the trip over. The more Yuuya gazes around City, the more his mind aches. It’s as if there’s a crack in a dam and he’s moments away from losing himself to any memory that’s been hidden from him. Everything has become familiar: the faces he sees, the roads they walk down, the bikes that zip down the pavement. Yuuya has never been to Synchro before – didn’t even know this place  _ existed  _ – so how can he know so much about here? At times, Yuuya thinks to turn down a street and take Sora with him, and he knows just what to expect at the ends of roads.

Unable to stay silent, Sora chatters away about visiting here before and about a tournament called the Friendship Cup that unites duelists of all styles and difficulties. That name rings a bell too, and Yuuya pounces on it.

“Friendship Cup? Have we … dueled there before?”

Sora raises an eyebrow. “I thought you said you’ve never been here before, hm?” There’s something about the way Sora says it, the depth behind his sing-song words, that makes Yuuya frown. He hasn’t been here before, but his mind says otherwise. And since Sora’s taking him here, he must’ve gone too.”

“This just feels … familiar.”

“Well, maybe it’s just a gut feeling.” Too deep. Yuuya stares at Sora until he starts giggling again and drags Yuuya into a candy shop, one that has a sale on lollipops. Sora buys them both candy, tearing Yuuya’s mind away from any confusing, dark thoughts; the bubblegum-pop music in the background doesn’t help matters any. When they exit the candy store, Yuuya’s mind isn’t any clearer, but he lets Sora lead him along the road.

However, the thought that they’re stalling for something persists, an itch in his head. 

“Sora, where  _ are  _ we going?”

Sora grins, all teeth exposed, and with his lollipop tucked into the corner of his mouth. “Have you ever been on a motorbike, Yuuya?”

He … has. Yuuya remembers his mother riding bikes, and he remembers being on one himself. Perhaps it was just a dream though. The feel of the bike between his legs and the rumble of the engine beneath him is familiar, another memory that Yuuya doesn’t know where it’s come from. There are few motorbikes in Maiami City, and none of them match the size or power of the bikes Yuuya has seen zip down the streets here. 

At his silence, Sora leans closer. “We’re going to ride one together, and you’re going to drive.”

Those words ring as Yuuya trails after Sora into a bike rental shop. The outside of the building is decorated with posters showcasing the new D-Wheels available. Somehow, Yuuya knows what a D-Wheel is, and he excitedly wonders if he and Sora will be participating in any Riding Duels. They both have their decks; a duelist never leaves the house without it.

Sora brings him up to a desk where a receptionist sits. “Bike rental for the day, please,” Sora asks the man.

The receptionist smiles and pushes a stack of papers forward. “Just fill these out and bring them back. Rental price for the day is 25000 yen.”

Reaching up to the desk, Sora takes the papers. “Sounds good.” He then brings the papers over to the desk, but when Yuuya tries to fill them out he tugs them away. “Nuh uh, I’m filling this out, OK? I want to pick out the bike!”

“You pick the bike from these papers?” Yuuya says. “I don’t think –”

Grinning, Sora gives him a playful shove. “Just go do something else. I’ll be done in just a moment.”

His behaviour is suspicious, but Yuuya lets it slide so he can stand at the open windows looking out onto the street. Even from this vantage point, City looks like a futuristic dimension. The street falls off to look down at the underbelly, and then rises up to catch the highways snaking through the skyscrapers. It’s captivating to imagine being that high or that low, riding on the wind. 

_ Riding Duel – Accel!  _ That’s how duels start, right? Yuuya remembers hearing those words, though from what memory he doesn’t know. When has Yuuya ever seen a Riding Duel? On TV? 

By this point, Sora has brought back the papers and pushed them onto the receptionist’s tall desk. He takes them in his hands and thumbs through them, before he peers over the sheets and says, “Shiunin Sora?”

Sora raises a hand. “Here!”

The receptionist refers to the papers once more. “Sakaki … Yuugo?”

Yuuya jumps, words tumbling out of his mouth: “Not Yuugo, Yuuya! Sakaki Yuuya.”

Next to him, Sora snickers. “Oopsie, guess my printing is a bit messy. Let me fix that here …” He motions for the paper back, and crosses out Yuugo. Over his shoulder, Yuuya peers at the paper. Sora’s printing isn’t horrendous, but he had definitely written Yuugo … on purpose. Yuuya’s eyes narrow. He knows that name from somewhere too. Is that a friend of his, or a fellow duelist? Perhaps he’s a Riding Duelist, and Sora was making a joke. If he was, the receptionist didn’t pick up on it.

With the papers sorted out, Sora returns them to the receptionist in exchange for the keys. The man says they can pick out the red bike at the front of the store; Sora doesn’t say if that’s the one he chose, if he could have chosen at all. Swinging the keys on the chain, Sora leads Yuuya out of the store and to the bike. It’s large but not bulky, a streamlined bike meant for fast trips around town. Mounted on the front of it is the duel disk meant for a Riding Duel, but Sora ensures him that they won’t be dueling.

“If we’re not dueling …”

“We’re going for a quick trip, OK? Just look around, all right? I’ll tell you where to go.”

Yuuya opens his mouth to say that he  _ can’t  _ drive a D-Wheel, but deep down both he and Sora must know the truth. In some life of his, Yuuya has driven a motorbike before. When he sits down, legs straddling the frame, he already knows where to put his hands and feet, and even where all the controls are. The motorbike becomes an extension of his body. He slips the key into the ignition, checks that Sora is secured behind him, and then guides the bike out to the edge of the street.

He revs the engine once, twice –

And then takes off down the street. At this speed, Yuuya shouldn’t be able to see what he’s passing, but the world moves with him. He spots other bikes and streets, and most importantly he sees the ocean running alongside him. The narrow street spikes up towards the sky, and soon Yuuya is above the world, travelling on a highway taller than some of the building in Maiami. He can see new wonders from this height, namely how there are several other pieces of the world that Yuuya never remembers learning about in geography class. 

There are trains connecting to other cities. Yuuya can see Maiami behind him with its stadium on the sea and its cheery atmosphere; across the ocean though, there is another city that’s equally iridescent, and with a tower with a heart atop it. It’s not part of Maiami City, so it must be another town. Ahead of him is a town made of white-stone buildings. Like Maiami, there is a building floating above the water. It appears to be a castle of sorts resting atop the mountains, as if someone just dropped an entire building on the land and it never tipped off.

Yuuya points out to the white-stone city and the castle on the mountain, and asks Sora, “That where we’re heading?”

Sora nods. He’s become unusually quiet, not giving directions or chattering away. He buries his face in Yuuya’s back and doesn’t look up once. The tighter his fingers cling to Yuuya’s shirt, the more Yuuya wonders just what might be going on in Sora’s head. It’s not like him to be so silent.

The highway dips down into the city; here the road changes from a great highway into a small, quaint street. The speed drops so Yuuya has to meander through the town, and the buildings take up more road space and force Yuuya to weave around people. This town is familiar too, and again Yuuya doesn’t know why. He’s not even sure where he  _ is  _ at this point, and Sora doesn’t seem keen to give any answers.

They travel through the city and along the beaches towards the castle. It catches Yuuya’s attention, perhaps because it’s so similar to the Maiami Stadium. The closer they come to the palace, the more Yuuya wants to visit it. There’s something … memorable about that place, just like it’s equally memorable to ride along on the motorbike.

Since Sora hasn’t said a word, Yuuya speaks up. “Hey, I want to go there, to that castle in the mountains.”

“Do you now?” Sora says.

Yuuya nods. At the first exit towards the castle, Yuuya steers the bike down a road heading out over the water. Below them, the ocean is no longer a glimmering blue, but instead a dark, deep chasm. The sunset behind the castle creates eerie shadows along the bridge and the water’s surface; Yuuya’s eyes follow the dark lines until he passes through the first set of arches leading into the castle. 

Now closer, the castle is much bigger than Yuuya imagined. The walls are made of hard stone, while the roof is decorated with purple tiles that catch the last of the sunlight. There are spires and bridges, arches and stained glass windows, that make the palace look quite historic and medieval; however, at the same time there’s something new buzzing around the city. Yuuya imagines this place is still in use today.

He leads the bike to the edge of the road so that he can park, and when he steps out he’s at the entrance to a great door as tall as a duel monster. Yuuya looks up and swallows hard. 

“Where is this?” Yuuya asks, throat dry.  _ Duel Academia,  _ his mind answers. As he lays his hand against the wood of the door, images of duel monsters, of friends, of fighting, flash in his mind. His free hand reaches back to hold Sora, and he ends up tugging him close for a side-hug. The memories flowing into Yuuya’s mind aren’t organised or clear, but this feels right.

“I … don’t want to go in there,” Sora says. “You must know why, don’t you?”

Yuuya shakes his head, nods, and then touches his temple. “I don’t remember a lot, even though all of this – all these places we’ve visited, the things we’ve done – seems familiar. I’ve  _ been  _ here before. I’ve ridden a bike and gone on trips, and how I can have memories that I don’t remember seems so strange. How could I have forgotten this, Sora?” Spinning around, Yuuya puts his other hand on Sora’s shoulders. “How come I forgot this all?”

Sora bites his lip.

Frustrated, Yuuya shakes his head. “I don’t even know if these are memories or dreams, or what I can even believe right now! How do I know what’s true? This all seems true!”

His mind fills with images of dragons, of duelists, of racing and running and living and surviving. This place … he’s been to this world before, back when it was tearing apart at the seams and a god of destruction threatened to erase them all. Did … he stop that god? What did he do? Why can’t he  _ remember? _

Sora’s eyes are wet with tears, pulled down at the corners. 

_ He was crying back then, wasn’t he? _

“Why did I forget everything?” Yuuya asks himself. “Why can’t I remember even the smallest details?”

_ Ladies and Gentlemen, it’s showtime! I, the man, shall repent! Smile World!  _

None of it makes sense, words spinning in his burning mind. Yuuya falls to his knees as the thoughts threaten to take over his conscious. Standing by him, Sora can do nothing but reach for his flailing arms and hold him close. So Sora does, crouching down with him and burying his face into Yuuya’s chest. While Yuuya can’t stop looking at world blurring and sharpening around him, Sora won’t see any of it. This world that Yuuya doesn’t remember – did it exist back then? Were they all together, or like his memories did these places shatter before coming together again?

Come together … Become one.

_ That’s memorable.  _

Yuuya holds Sora close as the memories, so bright and iridescent, flood his mind. He doesn’t snatch onto them, but instead lets them pass by with a glance. There are too many to try and hold onto.

What he can hold is who is with him right now, and who is memorable in this moment.


End file.
